Spiderwoman had quite a few messages for me over the last couple of weeks.. I've just got back from a working retreat in Tuscany, and I've had a lot of food for thought whilst I was there..

These spiders I believe belong to the family Pholcidae and they apparently eat most insects, even other spiders. They make very untidy webs everywhere, and if disturbed, vibrate like mad. Often the webs don't show up until the sun really streams in, whereupon it's suddenly apparent that most of the house is festooned like a set from a Hammer horror.

Casa Rosa was full of them when I arrived - it takes no time at all for the creatures to realise the house is empty of humans and take over. It is one of the reasons I decided last year that I had to get to the bottom of my arachnophobia. It's no good having a house in the countryside and then being freaked out by the wildlife.

So when I started my MA at Northumbria Uni last year, and I really had no idea where to begin to get my studio practice back, I decided that my theme had to be facing my fears, fear of not being able to make art after a long break from personal studio practice, fear of forgetting how to fire a kiln, fear of getting old and decrepit after a scary time of being ill and experiencing my energy and strength drain away,  fear of being poverty stricken having no longer the benefit of a salaried job... fear of being seen as self indulgent for wanting to be an artist -you get the picture?

I've been arachnophobic for many many years, I have a collection of spider stories, memorable encounters with spiders have often signalled a life change of some description, and so I developed a morbid fascination. By developing coping strategies along the way, I've tried really hard not to pass my fear on.. and even made valiant attempts to like them, given the mythological significance of them and the fact that with a bit of detachment I could see how amazing spiders are.  My personal arachnophobia I decided, could become a metaphor for all the other fears. By making a study of spiders, maybe I could de-sensitise myself. By making art I could maybe transform the fear. It was quite a journey, and maybe I'll write more about it later.

Anyway,  there you have it, back in Casa Rosa, I'm noticing just how effective that strategy was. I usually evict them all forthwith, but this time I just left every single one where it was, although I swept their abandoned webs out. (This incarnation of Spiderwoman is no fool - when her web's too mucky she just moves out and spins another, no housework for her) I did clean them all out though, just before I left to return to the UK, and then only because I knew my niece wouldn't be too happy when she arrives in a few days to spend her 21st birthday Mums-and-daughters sojourn in the Tuscan Mountains if she has to contend with them all herself.

I also took some amazing photos of the greenest spider I've ever seen, which I unfortunately damaged by strimming her leg off as I attempted to deal with the over-the-head level grass that had sprung up as it does every spring. ... but that's another story

I realise that many people find spiders a bit grim, but I'd like fellow phobes to keep reading  (''In Western societies as many as 55% of females and 18% of males are estimated to experience arachnophobia'' according to Wikipedia) so I'm not posting photos, just artwork, which is bad enough when a year ago, catching a corner of the eye view of a tomato stalk was enough to make the  hair on the back of my neck stand on end..

As Spiderwoman knows , there's much to be gained by facing your fears. Including, in my case the manifestation of a Tuscan Dream...